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The Boy just suggested that I apply to Viable Paradise.
Part of me would love dearly to go. That part, however, got squashed like a bug when I got out the calculator and tabulated how much it would be with room and board plus tuition. Yeah. Our collective parental units/family/friends are already chomping at the bit for the Boy and I to set a date and get the ball rolling on our wedding (why yes, that is a tone of dread you hear in my voice). The money alone (it came to somewhere in $1800-$2000 range) would be enough to buy wedding stuff.
Also? At UNF, if you were in state and didn't have lab fees and didn't take more than 15 hours? That money could pay for an entire semester's worth of classes! An. Entire. Semester.
But somehow, that little part of me weaseled out from under my big practical shoe like a spider you just can't kill and said, "But, you could save money! It would be really wonderful! Didn't you see the ad? Other writers and real critiques and Martha's Vineyard and did I mention other writers. You know it would be wonderful. Don't deny it!"
And then I rolled up a newspaper and swatted it with, "Yeah, and remember the last couple of writer's groups? Wasn't all it was cracked up to be, was it? Oh, and remember how you didn't even submit anything for critique, even when it was your turn, because you were too afraid?"
But the damn thing kept fighting me. And it wailed, "But it would be different. It would be so much better, you know it would, and you'd already have submitted anyway."
Well, I got tired of this little bug so I took off the gloves and I glared down and I said, "All right. But answer me this, little Stupidly Hopeful Part of My Id - do you really think I'm that good? Seriously."
It died a flailing, horrible death on the spot. I crowed victoriously. Then realized I'd just spent fifteen minutes arguing with myself and that maybe, it wasn't anything to be proud of. And then I realized that, dude, even my own Id can't lie to me.
Woo, 2008's startin' out rough.
Now I have to go and resume my Day Job, but with 28% more Complete Apathy as my internship is on it's last leg and I already know I'm not staying there.
Part of me would love dearly to go. That part, however, got squashed like a bug when I got out the calculator and tabulated how much it would be with room and board plus tuition. Yeah. Our collective parental units/family/friends are already chomping at the bit for the Boy and I to set a date and get the ball rolling on our wedding (why yes, that is a tone of dread you hear in my voice). The money alone (it came to somewhere in $1800-$2000 range) would be enough to buy wedding stuff.
Also? At UNF, if you were in state and didn't have lab fees and didn't take more than 15 hours? That money could pay for an entire semester's worth of classes! An. Entire. Semester.
But somehow, that little part of me weaseled out from under my big practical shoe like a spider you just can't kill and said, "But, you could save money! It would be really wonderful! Didn't you see the ad? Other writers and real critiques and Martha's Vineyard and did I mention other writers. You know it would be wonderful. Don't deny it!"
And then I rolled up a newspaper and swatted it with, "Yeah, and remember the last couple of writer's groups? Wasn't all it was cracked up to be, was it? Oh, and remember how you didn't even submit anything for critique, even when it was your turn, because you were too afraid?"
But the damn thing kept fighting me. And it wailed, "But it would be different. It would be so much better, you know it would, and you'd already have submitted anyway."
Well, I got tired of this little bug so I took off the gloves and I glared down and I said, "All right. But answer me this, little Stupidly Hopeful Part of My Id - do you really think I'm that good? Seriously."
It died a flailing, horrible death on the spot. I crowed victoriously. Then realized I'd just spent fifteen minutes arguing with myself and that maybe, it wasn't anything to be proud of. And then I realized that, dude, even my own Id can't lie to me.
Woo, 2008's startin' out rough.
Now I have to go and resume my Day Job, but with 28% more Complete Apathy as my internship is on it's last leg and I already know I'm not staying there.